Page 29 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
Olivia is there, staring at the runway, arms crossed, looking bored in a leather jacket and a pair of aviators. She might as well have come straight from the set ofTop Gun 3. By the gangway, a couple of official-looking wolves in suits are holding clipboards, talking and pointing. They must be administrative types who work for the alpha, making sure everything is organized for us. Clayton steps off the plane in a preppy navy-blue sweater and white chinos, his hair perfectly quaffed, talking to someone on his cell. Without pausing, he brushes past the administrative types like they aren’t even there. They bristle in his wake but get right back to finalizing their plans.
My attention is suddenly pulled left, where the door of one of the buildings has swung open. My breath catches in my throat as Jasper steps out onto the runway in a black turtleneck, black slim-fit jeans, and combat boots, a woman in a pilot’s uniform following just after. They chat as they wander toward the plane, and Jasper looks every bit the conscientious prince, listening and putting his subject at ease.
“Well, kiddo,” Mom says, pulling my attention away from Jasper, “it looks like everyone is here already. You better get going.”
“Have a great time,” Dad says, grabbing me up in a hug. “Make sure to take some pictures of that blood moon for us.”
“I will,” I say, letting him go and turning to Mom. “It’ll be weird not being home for Christmas.”
She can’t help tearing up a little, her cheeks turning all rosy in the cold.
“It’s just this once, and it’ll be worth it, I bet,” she says, trying to comfort me, herself, the whole family.
“I’m sorry I won’t be there.” Suddenly, I’m feeling super guilty. Not only have I been acting weird for months, and sneaking out, now I’m abandoning them for the holidays.
Mom pats me on the shoulder and gives my arm a squeeze. “It’s all part of growing up, kiddo. You need to have your own experiences. There’ll be more Christmases.”
“And when I get back I can tell you all about it.” I nod reassuringly, trying to tell her that I want to share everything with her, that I’ll be ready soon.
“Can’t wait,” she says and pulls me into the tightest hug.
Oh Moon Gods, even I might start crying, and I can’t show up at the plane with puffy eyes. I take one last breath of Mom’s scent and let her go.
“You got everything?” Dad asks for the hundredth time, putting an arm around Mom and smiling in this half grin that dimples his cheek.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” I turn to leave but have to turn back after a few steps. “I’ll call you when we land.”
“Go on,” Mom says, shooing me away.
A breath and then I turn and make my way to the plane.
Everyone is boarding by the time I’ve crossed the airfield; Olivia is the last up the stairs and I get in line behind her.
“Hi,” I say.
She turns and, without smiling, says, “Hey,” then steps up into the jet.
I take one last look at my parents standing by their car with their arms around each other and give them one last wave.
The interior of the plane feels more spacious than it looks from the outside. The cabin is has cream walls punctuated by Tic Tac-shaped portholes. Leather chairs sit in pairs facing each other so that two people have to fly sitting backward, which sucks if you get travel sickness. Next to each high-end La-Z-Boy sits a polished oak table with gold detailing. Two crew members are moving through the cabin with hot towels and glasses of orange juice.What, no champagne?
Clayton has already taken a seat right at the front, facing the back of the plane. He’s yabbering into his cell phone and Olivia, who has sat down in the opposite chair, is pulling on her headphones and scrolling through her phone, I’m sure looking for something to drown out that noise. I don’t particularly want to sit next to either of them, so I glance to the back of the plane, where Katie is sitting facing me.
I try to catch her eye but Todd and Simon are fighting for the seat next to her, jostling each other into the aisle for prime position. I manage to squeeze past them and plonk myself in the opposite corner of a four-seat formation.
“Guys, come on, we can all move about during the flight,” Katie says, swatting at them with an in-flight magazine. “It’s not even that long of a trip.”
“But I want to hold your hand during takeoff,” Todd says.
“And I want to make sure you have gum in case your ears pop,” Simon retorts.
Katie glances in my direction but I’m not in the mood to get involved, so I look away.
Jasper ducks through the door from the cockpit and swiftly takes in the seating arrangements. His glance lands on me and turns cold. He pulls out a large set of platinum headphones and sits in the seat closest to the door—the seat farthest away from me. The second he’s sitting he closes his eyes. And I guess that’s how he plans to stay the entire flight.
By the time the door is closed, Todd and Simon have managed to come to some kind of agreement, although they continue to nudge and provoke each other as the plane maneuvers onto the runway.
Katie is staring at me, so I return her gaze and she gestures with her head that I should go and sit with Jasper. There’s no way I’m doing that—not in front of Clayton, not on this tiny soon-to-be-airborne vessel, not while he’s acting like he wishes he was anywhere else.
